


Graduation

by zuotian



Series: Kenman Week 2018 [5]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Brother-Sister Relationships, College, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic, Graduation, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Drug Addiction, Relationship Negotiation, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:10:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuotian/pseuds/zuotian
Summary: Kenny, a recently recovered cheesing addict, has finally graduated college after showing up at Cartman's door six years ago. Cartman is proud, but questioning the future of their relationship. Karen flies down to celebrate with them, and helps Cartman come to a realization about his feelings for her brother.





	Graduation

**Author's Note:**

> ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS FANFICTION—EVEN THOSE BASED ON A REAL SHOW—ARE ENTIRELY GRATUITOUS. ALL CANONICAL DIALOGUE IS IMPERSONATED ... POORLY. THE FOLLOWING FANFICTION CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT IT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE.

Cartman was proud of Kenny - he really was. After six long years, Kenny had finally graduated from Colorado State. Their coupling had been a surprise to everyone else, but to Cartman it felt like a natural progression from their childhood reliance on each other. Nobody put up with Cartman’s shit the way Kenny did, and everyone else had better things to do than hang out with Kenny. A relationship born of necessity grew into something more genuine over the years, and when Kenny approached Cartman asking for help getting out of South Park - well, it was probably the first charitable act of his life. 

 

They moved in together at Fort Collins in a shitty apartment off campus. Cartman was in his sophomore year of business school, forever hellbent on getting rich. It was an appropriate application of his intelligence, learning the system so that he could cheat it. Most people looked down on his nefariously illegal goals, but Kenny had no qualms working outside the law, and enjoyed staying up late listening to Cartman’s plans for money laundering and tax evasion, the workings of dummy corporations and the dark web. 

 

Kenny had been busy keeping the last cheesing ring alive in South Park when the cops got hot on his tail. By that point Karen was safely out the way, at school on a poverty grant, so Kenny ditched and showed up at Cartman’s door in the middle of the night, haggard and high on cat piss with a bag of cash and clothes. 

 

Cartman took him in like a bird with a broken wing, fed him with cups of ramen and Mountain Dew as he detoxed. By the time he was functional, Cartman helped him land a job. He worked nights mopping floors. But halfway through Cartman’s junior year he was back on the cheese, hunting down stray cats in the city streets. Cartman was forced to give him an ultimatum: either stay clean, or get the fuck out. 

 

Faced with the prospect of going back to South Park, Kenny checked into rehab with the last of his funds. He came back from Malibu suntanned and reborn, and enrolled in Colorado State too. Cartman had him write a sob story essay about his home life, drug abuse, and financial situation, and Kenny got the same aid as his sister.

 

At first it was for the hell of it, but once he got into a psychology class Cartman saw him excited about things other than getting high. He hopped on a psych major and followed it through up into his master’s. In the meantime, Cartman graduated and got a job at a shoddy tax company. He moved up the ladder quickly, enough to conduct his real work with less suspicion and low risk. 

 

When Kenny’s aid ran out Cartman, already pretty loaded, supplied the rest of his tuition. This opened up a new avenue in their friendship - sex, and lots of it. Kenny refused favors without compensation. Cartman jokingly suggested he become a sex slave, but Kenny took it seriously and approached him the next night, stark naked. In the years living together, they’d already walked in on each other getting out of the shower or masturbating, and their emotional closeness festered a lot of unresolved tension. Once again, another big step simply felt like no big deal. 

 

But things were different now, for real. Kenny was graduating - no more tuition needed. He was clean and didn’t need looking after. Cartman would be lying if he said he’d miss the sex, but that was just a small part of it. He was more worried about Kenny moving out and moving on. Cartman had finally used up all of his usefulness. 

 

He showed up late to the graduation ceremony, wearing his work suit and tie, and sat in the back as the last of the L’s filed off the stage. 

 

Martin, Mason, McCabe - “Kenny McCormick!” 

 

Cartman smiled, watching Kenny hop up from his seat. He was still skinny as ever, drowning in his robes. His shaggy blond hair peeked out from under the cap, and the tassel swung back and forth over his eyes. Cartman clapped as he strode across the stage to accept his diploma. 

 

He couldn’t believe he saw this kid grow up in a crack house, start a drug ring, run from law enforcement, get over his addiction, and finish school. Kenny’s life was a one-in-a-million story, and Cartman was lucky enough to witness most of it. He blinked hurriedly as Kenny went to sit back down. 

 

Just like that, the moment passed. It only took a few seconds. Cartman wiped his face of tears and glanced around, hoping nobody saw. He knew Karen was in the crowd somewhere; Cartman flew her in to surprise Kenny. His parents were pieces of shit and his brother was in jail; Karen was practically the only family he had. Cartman wasn’t too excited about her encroaching on their night out later, but she was twenty one now and just as able to get smash-faced drunk. 

 

Not wanting to stick around and wait inside, Cartman went across the street to get a coffee and vaped on the sidewalk. He liked the flavor and timing his exhales so clouds went in between the walking passerby. He tried getting Kenny in on it, because of cancer and all, but since he couldn’t cheese anymore Kenny was pretty possessive of his tobacco and also told Cartman he was impenetrable to disease - whatever that meant. 

 

Cartman took a stroll up and down either side of the street, for something to do. He checked his phone for emails from his coworkers and co-conspirators alike, everybody licking his ass for him to work his magic. He went back to the coffeeshop, opened his laptop, and tossed around huge amounts of money until he got a text from Kenny asking where he was. 

 

He stepped outside and encountered an outpour of robed graduates. Kenny and Karen were tucked into an alcove between buildings, sitting on benches and smoking. Some McCormick habits you just couldn’t kick, Cartman supposed. 

 

Grinning ear to ear, Kenny rose to his feet and jogged toward Cartman once he was in sight. “What the fuck, dude? You didn’t tell me Karen would be here!” 

 

“It’s called a surprise,” Cartman said, smiling back. “You looked good.” 

 

“Ugh, don’t say that.” Kenny stuck his cigarette between his lips and unzipped the robe, peeling it off to reveal torn jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. “It was hot as balls in there. The longest three hours of my life.” He threw the robe over his forearm, took his hat off, and plucked the cigarette from his mouth. “Worth it though. I’m a real shrink now.” 

 

“Sure are,” Cartman said. “At least one of us is doing something to better society.” 

 

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’re gonna be a huge philanthropist or something, right?” He elbowed Cartman’s side. “Big old softie.” 

 

“I might remake the crack baby athletic association,” Cartman said. 

 

Kenny laughed. “That’s what I’m talking about!” He glanced back at Karen, then turned and leaned in against Cartman’s front. “She knows about us,” he informed. 

 

Cartman frowned. “What’s there to know?” 

 

“Uh, that we’ve been fucking? So don’t be weird about it, okay?” 

 

Jesus, it was already starting. “Okay,” Cartman said, his mood souring. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Kenny asked. 

 

“Nothing,” Cartman promised. “I just sat in Starbucks with a bunch of yuppies.” 

 

Kenny snorted, looking Cartman up and down. “Aren’t  _ you _ kind of a yuppie?” 

 

“Fuck no. I’m an anarchist working from the inside.” 

 

“Right,” Kenny said. He reached up and tugged Cartman’s tie. “When are you gonna get outta this thing, then?” 

 

Cartman’s eyebrows rose. “You really want Karen to see the shithole we live in?” 

 

Kenny winked, and patted Cartman’s chest with his hand before stepping backward. “Don’t worry. Her expectations are really low.” 

 

They walked back to the bench Karen was sitting at. Kenny dropped beside her and threw his arm over her shoulders. 

 

“This is great,” he said. “I got a degree, my best friend, and my sister. This is probably the best day of my life.” 

 

Karen looked up to greet Cartman. They last saw each other in person when Kenny went to rehab. “Hey. Thanks for bringing me here. It really means a lot.” 

 

Cartman coughed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “No problem.” 

 

“Don’t be a prude,” Kenny chastised. He hooked his foot around Cartman’s ankle, forcing him to sit down on his other side. “We’re going back to the apartment and Cartman’s gonna get out of his penguin suit,” he told his sister. “Then we’ll all get beers.” 

 

“Cool,” Karen said. She snubbed her cigarette out and wiggled deeper under Kenny’s arm. “This is so crazy.” 

 

Kenny looked at her. “What do you mean?” 

 

She shrugged. “Just how you managed to do this.”

 

“Not without Cartman’s help,” Kenny said, squeezing Cartman’s knee. 

 

Cartman jumped at the contact and scooted away. “Uh, you know - what are friends for?” 

 

Kenny snorted. “Friends. Right.” He finished his smoke and stood up. “Let’s go. I’m fucking sick of sitting around here.” 

 

They walked a few blocks down to where Cartman had parked his Mazda Miata to evade traffic. The apartment was a little ways across town. Cartman focused on driving and let Kenny talk Karen’s ear off without interruption. He asked her about nursing school and cleaning old ladies’ vaginas - real compelling conversation. 

 

They pulled into the parking deck and entered the apartment complex swiftly. Kenny ran ahead, taking the steps two at a time.

 

“This is our place,” he proudly announced to his sister, “right by the stairs.” 

 

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. Cartman followed after Karen and shut the door behind them. 

 

Their adopted stray cat, Hefner - named after Kenny’s personal hero - jumped down from the coffee table upon their arrival. He had one eye and orange fur.

 

Karen bent down to scratch his head. “Aw, hi. I’m glad to finally meet you, Hefner.” 

 

“I picked him up after I got back from rehab,” Kenny explained, dropping on his knees beside Karen. “He was good for cheesing, so I didn’t want any of the junkies taking advantage of him. He likes Cartman best though. Cartman has a real way with pussy.” 

 

“I do not,” Cartman said. “Cats are just smart, and he knows I’m a genius.” 

 

Karen got up on the couch and pulled Hefner onto her lap. “Kenny sends pictures of you two sleeping together.” 

 

Cartman looked at Kenny. “ _ What _ ?” 

 

“You and Hefner, dude,” Kenny clarified. He got up from his haunches. “Let’s go pick outfits for tonight.” 

 

“What?” Cartman asked. “You don’t give a shit about that.” 

 

“It’s a special occasion,” Kenny said, taking his hand. “Karen, there’s PBR and whatever in the fridge.” 

 

He pulled Cartman into their shared bedroom and shut the door, then started going through their closet. 

 

“I told you not to be weird,” he said, throwing a shirt at Cartman’s chest.

 

Cartman caught it with ease and sat on the bed. “I’m not.” 

 

“Then what’s got you all nervous? It’s killing my vibe.” Kenny unbuttoned his pants and stripped them off with his boxers.

 

“Nothing.” Cartman looked away resolutely. “I’m not nervous.” 

 

“What, do you not like my ass anymore?” Kenny asked. “You know I can’t wear underwear with my fancy pants.” He opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of tight black jeans. 

 

“Maybe I’m nervous because you’re  _ antagonizing  _ me,” Cartman said. He peeked a look at Kenny’s ass - it really was pretty great. 

 

“Not anymore than usual.” Kenny hiked the jeans up his legs and took his shirt off, then held his hand out for the one he tossed to Cartman. 

 

Cartman handed it to him. “It’s just your  _ sister _ is around.” 

 

“So? She doesn’t give a fuck.” 

 

“But you’re graduated now.” 

 

“Yeah, and I’m trying to  _ celebrate _ .” Kenny shoved his head through the collar of his t-shirt. It was just plain gray and looked nice with the black jeans. He permanently looked like trailer trash, but his newfound confidence made it work in a mature, adult way. Kenny was always fucking hot. He put his hands on his washboard hips. “What’s the big deal?” 

 

“No deal,” Cartman said. 

 

“Liar.” Kenny laid out on the mattress next to him. “Take off that suit already. It holds your man boobs in too much. I wanna see em.” 

 

“That’s the shit I’m talking about,” Cartman said. 

 

Kenny propped up on his elbow as Cartman rose to change. “It’s the truth though.” 

 

“Well, you don’t have to say everything you think.” Cartman loosened his tie and threw it at Kenny’s head. “You’re the psychologist now - you should know that.” 

 

Kenny let the tie fall off of his face and onto the bed. “I know when somebody’s upset and trying to hide it. But it’s my day today, so I’ll drop it for now.” 

 

Karen knocked on the door. “Hey, guys? If we’re gonna get ready, my clothes and stuff are at the hotel.” 

 

“One sec,” Kenny called. He stood from the bed. “Give me your keys,” he told Cartman. “I’ll go drop her off.” 

 

Cartman sighed, reaching into his pocket. “I just got that car.” 

 

“Relax,” Kenny said. “I’ve already driven it and you didn’t even know.” 

 

“Seriously?” 

 

“Yeah, thanks. Take a shower or something and chill out. I want a blowjob when I get back - it’s my day!”

 

Cartman was left alone in the bedroom. He finished taking the rest of his suit off and cracked the door open. Hefner was the only one in the living room, so he moseyed naked to the bathroom and got in the shower. He took his sweet time about it, ruminating under the hot water. Hefner sat on the toilet to keep him company; he was a good cat. 

 

He heard Kenny return as he stepped out of the tub. He didn’t bother with a towel, walking out into the living room with his man boobs in full view. 

 

Kenny was at the fridge in their kitchenette. He insisted on keeping a stock of Pabst Blue Ribbon the same way he honored his heritage by chainsmoking out the window above the sink. He leaned against the counter and popped open a can of beer. “Sweet digs you hooked Karen up with,” he commented. “You’re just trying to impress her, aren’t ya?” 

 

“I didn’t want her sleeping on the couch,” Cartman said. 

 

“Yeah, but you could’ve just given her a Motel 8.”

 

“I assumed she wanted something better than her usual dorms. You didn’t wreck my car?” 

 

“No, but I got that baby going fast - top down. I wanna take it on the Daytona track or something.” 

 

“That’s never going to happen,” Cartman said. 

 

Kenny took a swig of beer. “Karen asked some more about us.” 

 

Cartman started toward the bedroom, wanting to put space between himself and this conversation. “Like what?” 

 

“Well she knows we share a room now,” Kenny said, following incessantly. He sprawled out on the bed as Cartman rifled through the closet. 

 

“There’s only one bedroom in this place,” Cartman pointed out. 

 

“Yeah, with one bed. I didn’t tell her I jetpack you though.” 

 

Cartman didn’t respond. Him being the little spoon was a great source of ire for Kenny, among everything else about him. 

 

“Don’t be like that,” Kenny said, crossing his outstretched legs. “You’re embarrassed.” 

 

Cartman pulled on a pair of boxers, sick of Kenny looking at his ass. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Kenny, because we aren’t actually together.” 

 

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” 

 

Cartman turned around. “Is it? You practically had me sign a friends-with-benefits contract in  _ cum _ .” 

 

“Oh, shut up.” Kenny set his beer on the end table. “What about my blowjob?” 

 

“Everything’s sex with you,” Cartman said. He picked a pair of slacks and a v-neck shirt at random. Everything was a little loose; all the city walking was making him lose weight, and since he could afford more than ramen he wasn’t intaking as much sodium. 

 

“No it’s not,” Kenny said. “I just happen to find it the most efficient way to show  _ love _ .” 

 

“Ugh.” Cartman straightened his shirt out over the hem of his pants. Kenny said the L word like it was a curse. 

 

“It’s the same way you use money,” Kenny said. 

 

“I do not - “ 

 

“Then you should’ve got Karen a room at the Motel 8.” 

 

Cartman combed his hair in the mirror, conscious of Kenny’s reflection staring him down. “I thought you were going to drop it.” 

 

Kenny smirked, lacing his hands behind his head. “You know how to shut me up.” 

 

“ _ Fine _ \- “ Cartman launched himself on the bed. Kenny grunted at the impact. Despite the myriad of life changes, Cartman would always be kind of fat and Kenny would always be kind of a bean pole. 

 

Cartman’s hair created a wet spot on the front of Kenny’s shirt. He raked the shirt up Kenny’s stomach and undid Kenny’s fly. “You want a blowjob, I’ll give you a fucking blowjob,” he said. 

 

Kenny kept his hands behind his head. “You’re always so mad when you suck me off.” 

 

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Cartman warned. He tugged Kenny’s pants down, and his dick flopped out in commando. Cartman held his hip down with one hand and used the other to jerk him toward erectness. 

 

“You’re gonna tear it off,” Kenny said.

 

Cartman just increased his pace. Finally Kenny let out a keening moan, and Cartman knew they were locked in. He panted through his ministrations, guiding Kenny’s dick out of its foreskin. Cartman loved Kenny’s uncut cock - he viewed circumcision as another sign of Jewish societal degradation. 

 

The head of Kenny’s dick blushed red; Cartman ran his thumbnail through its slit. Kenny whined and jackknifed his hips up into Cartman’s hand. The bed started creaking, rattling the end table and threatening Kenny’s can of PBR to spill. Hefner meowed at them from the bedroom doorway. 

 

“Bad kitty,” Cartman huffed without looking away. 

 

Kenny moved his hands under Cartman’s jaw and smashed their faces together in a sloppy kiss. “Leave him alone,” he ordered, and licked his way around Cartman’s teeth, tasting like cheap alcohol and Newports. 

 

Cartman dropped his forehead against Kenny’s clavicle, nosed down his abdomen and into his pubes. 

 

“Fuck,” Kenny gasped when Cartman took him halfway into his mouth. 

 

He still had a bit of a gag reflex and always had to take it slow. It was annoying, but Kenny, who could unlatch his jaw like a cobra, never complained about the buildup. 

 

Cartman slurped a bit to dispel the slobber dripping down his chin and it streaked across Kenny’s tensed thighs. He forced Kenny’s legs wider apart and moved closer. Kenny’s stomach jumped when Cartman’s wet hair splayed out over his navel. He held onto the bed’s backboard with both hands and bit his lip like a porn star. 

 

Cartman approached the root of Kenny’s dick. His throat closed, overfull, and he had to remind himself to breath through his nose even though it was shoved up against Kenny’s skin. It was suffocating. He wasn’t good at this. 

 

“Keep going,” Kenny breathily encouraged. “Don’t be a pussy.” 

 

So Cartman went in deeper until Kenny’s balls dusted his chin. Kenny would do all sorts of multitasking with his tongue and fingers during a blowjob, but Cartman didn’t have the same finesse and only tried not to kill himself. He was choking, making terrible snorting noises. Kenny started pumping his hips, using the headboard as a grip to lift his ass off the bed. His jeans, stretched between his knees, cut across Cartman’s chest. 

 

“Come on, fatass,” Kenny said. 

 

Cartman gripped Kenny’s thighs with his hands until the skin turned white beneath his palms. Kenny groaned, dropping loose-limbed against the mattress. Cartman went down with him, his teeth instinctively clenching around Kenny’s dick fat on his tongue - Kenny whined at the sharp pain, and Cartman bit harder. 

 

“Aw, shit,” Kenny muttered. Precum was falling down the back of Cartman’s throat. He coughed, spitting all over Kenny’s dick and abdomen. “Come  _ on _ ,” Kenny demanded, and he gnashed his teeth again like a dog with a chew toy. 

 

It was disgusting. Kenny started his characteristic high-pitched stuttering - “Ah, ah, ah,” - and Cartman knew the finish line was imminent. He released his bite and slid his mouth off the base of Kenny’s dick, letting the head sit against his palate as Kenny blew his load. Cartman swallowed, wincing at the taste. 

 

And they were done. Cartman sat up and reached for the unfinished PBR on the end table. He took a drink, then hacked the leftover cum and saliva stuck in his mouth back into the can. 

 

Kenny laid dazed below him. “I wasn’t done with that,” he said.  

 

“Fuck off,” Cartman countered hoarsely. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and inspected Kenny’s state. Nothing got on his fancy pants besides a few spots of wet spit. He pulled the gray shirt down Kenny’s stomach, then passed a gentle hand over his softening dick. There was a collection of bite marks but no lasting damage. Cartman dried him off with an errant bed sheet, tucked him back in and zipped his fly, methodical as changing a diaper.   

 

“You’re  _ welcome, _ ” he said, sitting up to rearrange his rumpled clothes. 

 

“Thanks.” Kenny flapped his hand, trying to grab Cartman’s hand. He was always super cuddly, post-coitus. “Where are you going?”

 

Cartman stood. “Getting water. My throat hurts from your demon sperm.” 

 

“Okay,” Kenny said. He rolled over onto his stomach. Hefner jumped up beside him, sniffed at where they’d just committed sin, then curled up on his back. “I’m taking a nap. Karen’s gonna hang at her nice ass hotel for a bit. She’s jetlagged.” 

 

Cartman returned from the kitchen with a glass of water and sat at the foot of the bed. Kenny didn’t know, but Cartman liked to watch him sleep. It was the only time he wasn’t screwing around in some way. It started when he detoxed, because it used to take him so long to sleep; Cartman liked to relish at the sight of his gaunt face relaxed and peaceful. The habit carried over even when he was sober. When he came back from rehab, Cartman stayed up all night keeping him under a watchful eye.

 

Reminded of that night, Cartman’s chest hurt with sentimentality. It was an uncomfortable feeling. He went back into the kitchen, picked up his vape, and opened the window. 

 

How many terrible blowjobs did he have left to give? He didn’t know. He felt stupid for not keeping track - of anything. It was easy for Kenny to pack up and leave, especially now without a warrant or debt over his head. He’d probably take Hefner, too, the bastard. 

 

But Cartman knew he at least had tonight. The big grand finale. 

 

He shut the window and returned to bed, sidling between Kenny and the wall. Kenny shifted closer in his sleep. Cartman wiggled down until his face was pressed into Kenny’s side. He fell asleep listening to Hefner’s loud purr. 

 

Later, Cartman woke up to Kenny shoving his shoulder. 

 

“Hey,” Kenny said into his ear, “wake  _ up _ . It’s like, seven.” 

 

Cartman swatted him away. “Go to hell.” 

 

“I’m serious,” Kenny said. “It’s my day, so you have to do what I want. I graduated college like you wanted, so get up!” 

 

Carmtan groaned. He sat against the headboard and pulled Hefner into his lap. 

 

Kenny was on his phone, standing beside the bed. “Karen texted me half an hour ago. She just got done getting ready. Let’s roll.” 

 

“Fine,” Cartman acquiesced. He pushed Hefner off the bed and pulled on a jacket. “Where do you want to go?” 

 

“The club.”

 

“Jesus Christ. Really?” 

 

Cartman hated going out to any place besides a dark, seedy bar filled with war veterans where you didn’t have to dance and couldn’t see anyone. 

 

“I wanna do shots and get all footloose,” Kenny said. 

 

“You watched that movie once, and you think you’re Kevin Bacon.” 

 

“It’ll be fun.” 

 

“Fiiiiine,” Cartman sighed. “Can’t we, like, warm up at an Olive Garden, or something?” 

 

“That’s too much like a date.” Kenny picked up his wallet and pack of smokes. “And you said we’re not together, so.” 

 

“Whatever.” Cartman went to the kitchen and stuffed a beer in either of his jacket pockets, then opened and chugged a third. “I’m pre-gaming right now, then.” 

 

They walked out of the apartment complex and into the street. Kenny ordered an Uber and they went to Karen’s hotel to pick her up. Cartman tossed his first beer can out the window and opened his second. 

 

Karen opened the door, and Kenny moved to the middle seat. “Hey,” he said. 

 

“Hey, guys,” Karen greeted. “Man, those beds are fucking awesome - and the showers are  _ huge _ ! Uh, what’s up, Cartman?” 

 

Cartman burped. “Hey.” 

 

“Don’t mind him,” Kenny said, “he’s a compulsive alcoholic.” 

 

“No I’m not,” Cartman said, and took a drink. 

 

“It’s okay,” Karen said, grinning sheepishly. “I already had some drinks from the minibar - hope you don’t mind, Cartman.” 

 

“He doesn’t,” Kenny said. “Just ignore him for now. He gets nervous being out in public.” 

 

Their Uber driver looked over his shoulder. “Are you drinking back there? You can’t do that.” 

 

“It’s just soda,” Cartman explained, and handed him a twenty. 

 

“Alright,” the driver said, accepting the bill. “Where you headed now?” 

 

They got out of the Uber downtown. It was crawling with yuppies, college students, and packs of hippies smoking five blunts apiece. Kenny lead them into the first club he came across. It was jam packed, sweat condenscing on the mirror-paneled walls. As Kenny shoved his way through the crowd, Cartman opened his last Pabst Blue Ribbon and drank it all in one go. 

 

Kenny found an open circle table. He brushed away the empty condom wrappers and set his jacket down. “I’m gonna go get drinks,” he yelled over the music. 

 

“I’ll go,” Cartman offered, not wanting to be alone with Karen - he didn’t do well with women, especially those related to Kenny. 

 

“No, stay here,” Kenny said, clapping them both on the shoulders. “Have a conversation, or something.” 

 

“Bastard,” Cartman muttered. 

 

Karen sat on one of the stools and brushed her hair behind her ear. “So… Kenny says you work at a tax company?” 

 

“Yeah,” Cartman said, following Kenny’s stupid blond head as he maneuvered toward the bar. “But it’s a sham - I really cook the books and stuff.” He turned to Karen when Kenny disappeared out of sight. “Did he tell you that?” 

 

“I mean, I kinda figured, with your car and all.” She smirked. “I won’t tell.”

 

“Even if you did, there’s nothing for anybody to find. I’m a real professional.” 

 

“I know,” Karen said. “Kenny talks about how smart you are all the time.” 

 

Cartman frowned. “Really?” 

 

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, when we were kids you always did stupid shit, but you were smart about it. Not like Kyle, I guess, but different - in a cool way.” 

 

Cartman held his hand out. “Give me five dollars.” 

 

Karen laughed. “What?” 

 

“Whenever Kenny uses Kyle’s name, he has to give me five bucks.” 

 

“Okay.” She reached into her purse and passed the bill. 

 

“Sweet,” Cartman said. 

 

“Now give it back,” she said. 

 

“What?” 

 

“You said his name too!” 

 

“God damn it,” Cartman muttered, and returned it. “You got me. Wait a second - you think I’m cool?” 

 

“Yes? Cartman, you managed to get my brother to go to  _ rehab _ .” 

 

“Uh - it’s nothing. Don’t mention it.” 

 

“Oh, I’ll mention it,” she said. “You saved his life.” 

 

“Um...I guess.” 

 

“Let’s go out for a smoke,” she suggested, glancing at the crowded bar. “It’s pretty busy. He won’t be back for awhile.” 

 

“What about his jacket?” Cartman asked. 

 

“Leave it, so we can keep the table - I don’t think anybody cares about an ugly Tapout hoodie from 2007, anyway.” 

 

They pushed their way to the side exit and stood in the alley. It was empty, jarringly quiet. The muffled club music mixed with the miscellaneous city sounds from the street into a steady cadence. 

 

Karen pulled her cigarettes from her purse. “Want one?” she asked. 

 

“I vape,” Cartman told her. 

 

“Don’t be a pussy.” 

 

“Fine,” he said. “If I get cancer, it’s your fault.” 

 

“I’ll be a nurse by then,” she said, “so I’ll just make up for it with free medical care.” 

 

She gave him a light. He took a drag and coughed immediately. 

 

Karen shook her head. “Take it easy. You don’t just suck it down. It’s not like a vape. Or my brother’s penis, for that matter.” 

 

“Christ - “ Cartman choked again, but not because of the smoke. 

 

“Did Kenny ever tell you why he started cheesing again?” Karen asked him. 

 

“What - “ Cartman beat his chest with his fist. “What do you mean?” 

 

“He’d been off of it since he was nine,” Karen said. “But when I got into my senior year, he started talking about how I needed to get out of South Park, and I’d need money. I was babysitting and got some scholarships and all that, but it wasn’t enough. I found him in the garage over winter break with all these stray cats, bottling up piss. I tried getting him to stop - but you know him, when he cares about somebody, he just doesn’t give up.” 

 

“I’ve noticed,” Cartman said. 

 

Karen flicked her cigarette. “He gave me most of what he made, and I left. Kevin had already been arrested for the third time, so he was home alone with our parents. You and Stan and - the other one - you guys were already gone. He stayed behind so I could go someplace better.” 

 

“I...never knew any of that.” 

 

“I’m not done,” Karen said. “I was at school, but I worried about him all the time. He was addicted again, he couldn’t help it. He stopped answering my calls, stopped texting me - but then he said he was running away. He didn’t want to end up like Kevin. He said he was going to your place. I thought - Cartman, really? You aren’t going to help. But you did. You took him in, you got him clean, you made him go to  _ college _ .” 

 

Cartman flinched, his untouched cigarette burnt to the butt. He dropped it and smashed it with his shoe.  

 

“I’m just saying it’s nice knowing somebody else cares,” Karen continued. “I’m glad he has you. I don’t know what exactly is going on between the two of you, and I don’t want to know. But as Kenny’s sister, I’m telling you - you changed his life. So own up to it.” 

 

Cartman didn’t know if it was the three beers in a row and he was buzzed, but it was suddenly hard to speak. “He’s my best friend,” he managed to say - and once he accepted that revelation, he couldn’t stop. “When we were kids… Kyle and Stan were always being gaywads with each other. Butters was just an idiot. But Kenny  _ got _ me. If everybody else chickened out, he never did. He huffed paint and set stuff on fire - he was so cool, and he wanted to set stuff on fire with  _ me _ . I don’t know - I missed him, I guess. And then he showed up at my front door, and he needed me. It was like back then.” 

 

“But now?” Karen ventured. 

 

“He’s perfect,” Cartman said. “He’s all - normal and shit. He’s totally fine. I knew he would be. And now there’s no point. It’s all over.” 

 

“I don’t think so,” Karen said. “You’re talking about how he’s great and all, but you’re still underestimating him. He’s an adult, not just some poor kid anymore. Has he  _ told _ you he’s gearing up to leave?” 

 

“No,” Cartman admitted. 

 

“Right. He’s going to stay - not because he needs to, but because he wants to. And you’re too fucked up and stupid to realize it, and he’s too fucked up and stupid to use his words. Now give me five more bucks, and let’s go inside - you said Kyle’s name again.”

 

Cartman opened his wallet. “You’re not too bad, Karen,” he told her. 

 

They returned to the table, which had been left alone with Kenny’s stupid Tapout jacket like Karen predicted. Kenny was there waiting with drinks. 

 

“What the hell took you so long?” he asked. “Where’d you guys go?” 

 

“We went out to smoke,” Karen said. “Nothing major.” 

 

Her turned to Cartman. “Should I be worried?” 

 

“No,” Cartman said, moving close beside him. 

 

“Okay…” 

 

“What’s this?” 

 

“Jack and Coke,” Kenny said. It was Cartman’s favorite drink. 

 

“Thanks.” Cartman gulped it all down in one swallow. “Let’s get out of here, hey?” 

 

“I’m not going to that bar again,” Kenny said. 

 

“I was thinking Karen could go back to our place, chill with Hefner, and we take her hotel room.” 

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Do you really wanna deal with all the people in here? Let’s just go get pant-loose instead. Do you care, Karen?” 

 

She grinned. “I don’t care. That minibar is pretty awesome, if that helps.” 

 

“She doesn’t care - let’s  _ gooo _ ,” Cartman whined. 

 

“What did you guys talk about?” Kenny demanded. 

 

“Nothing.” 

 

Kenny huffed. “It just took me forever to get this booze, and then I waited around for you two - “

 

“And for that, I thank you,” Cartman said. “But think about all the booze we can drink without even leaving the hotel room.” 

 

“So, what?” Kenny asked. “You want some great, romantic evening?” 

 

“Yes,” Cartman confirmed. 

 

Kenny narrowed his eyes. “I don’t buy it.” 

 

Karen rolled her eyes. “I’m not dealing with you two anymore. I’m gonna go.” 

 

“Wait - “ Kenny walked around Cartman and grabbed his sister’s arm. “What did you put him up to?” 

 

She tore out of his grip. “I just talked some sense into him. He gave me enough cash to get an Uber. I’m going to your apartment, and if you show up I won’t let you in!” 

 

Kenny dropped his hand to his side as he watched his sister leave. “This is all fucked up!” He whirled to Cartman. “This was my day - and you fucked it up!” 

 

“Let me make it up to you,” Cartman said. 

 

Kenny scowled. “What’s gotten into you, man?” 

 

“I just realized some things, talking to Karen. Can we just go outside, at least?” 

 

“Fine - “ Kenny dragged Cartman out of the club. He pushed him against the exterior of the building and crossed his arms, expectant. 

 

“Okay.” Cartman took a deep breath. The Jack and Coke was beginning to take effect. “You were right, earlier. I’m nervous as hell. I thought - since you’re out of school, there’s no need for us to fuck, so there’s no need to stick around. But Karen said some stuff...about your situation...that made me rethink some things…” 

 

“Like  _ what _ ?” Kenny asked. 

 

“Like how you started cheesing to get her away from your shit parents,” Cartman said. “Like how you tell her I’m so smart all the time. She said I saved your  _ life _ !” 

 

Kenny threw his hands up. “Well - duh!” 

 

“You never told  _ me _ all that!” 

 

Kenny sighed. He leaned against the wall beside Cartman and lit a cigarette. “I didn’t know how. Jesus, I feel so stupid.” 

 

“That makes two of us.” 

 

“I mean, I’m supposed to be a psych now, and I can’t even talk right about how I feel. But it’s just - you aren’t really easy to talk to, Cartman, and I thought maybe if we just fucked you’d get the point.” 

 

“I thought you were having sex with me to pay me back for the money,” Cartman said. 

 

“I was having sex with you because I wanted to. It’s never been about the money - I couldn’t care less, whether you were rich or poor as I used to be. I don’t care about that shit. I just really care about  _ you _ . I mean - hell, dude, we’re practically fucking married. We share an apartment. We have a cat. I make you pancakes in the morning and fuck you when you get home from work -  _ hello _ .” 

 

“I know,” Cartman said. “I know, dude, okay? I’ve always known.” 

 

Kenny tossed his cigarette away and turned to face Cartman fully. “Then why do you act like you don’t?”

 

“Because I thought I’d jinx it!” Cartman pushed off the wall and paced a few steps away. “I thought you’d realize I’m not  _ good _ at this type of shit and get sick of it!” 

 

“Are you serious?” Kenny stepped forward and took Cartman’s hand. “Get back here.” 

 

Cartman stilled. 

 

Kenny pulled him closer. “Cartman, if I was sick of your shit, I would’ve stopped being your friend when we were kids. I wouldn’t have spent that past six years of my life with you. I didn’t just need you - I wanted you. I  _ still  _ want you, dude.” 

 

“I want you too,” Cartman said. “You’re the only one who stayed with me even if shit hit the fan. That’s why I helped you out. I just thought if there’s no more shit, there’s no more fan, and there’s no more us.” 

 

“I don’t want to think what it’d be like without us,” Kenny told him. “There’s never  _ not _ been an us.” 

 

“I know,” Cartman repeated. 

 

Kenny smiled. He slung his arms around Cartman’s shoulders and kissed him, right in the middle of the sidewalk. “Then let’s go to that hotel, and we can prove it to each other.” 

 

Cartman smiled back. “Does this mean we can go to Olive Garden later?” 

 

Kenny laughed. “Yeah. It’ll be our first real date.” 

 

“Sweet.” 

**Author's Note:**

> just like my other fics the ending is a bit rushed and written at one in the morning. im just too excited to post this. this is the longest fic ive written in awhile, and i feel like my recent fics haven't had much exposition so i took some time with the build up in this one. 
> 
> almost done with these prompts. please leave a comment!


End file.
